Dienstag, 29. April 2014

This black metal lantern was crafted by the artificer warlocks of Ith-Narmant, the master of shadows, chill, and solanaceae. It has a black leather hood made from humanoid skin, is always cold to the touch and never exudes heat even while burning. It shines an eerie, dim, unnatural bluish light in a radius of 50 feet.

The special oil used in Ith-Narmant's Lantern will burn for up to 4 hours or 24 turns and can only be made with an elaborate ritual, a sacrifice and the blessing of a cleric of Ith-Narmant. If utilizing this oil as a thrown weapon, it will inflict 1d8 cold heat damage on a successful hit and 1d4 cold heat damage on the following two rounds (this can only be prevented with resistance to both magical fire and magical cold).

Animals will never freely enter or stay in the light of Ith-Narmant's Lantern. Characters and monsters of non-chaotic alignment must make a saving throw against magic to enter or stay in the lantern's light. If they fail, they can still enter or stay inside the illuminated area, but will feel very uncomfortable, get -2 on all rolls and try to escape the light after a certain number of rounds (Wisdom score determines the maximum number of rounds for characters, double hit dice does the same for monsters). They cannot try to re-enter the light before one turn has passed.

Ith-Narmant's Lantern can be lit and used by any class. It grants the shadow tunnel ability to everyone in its light. Shadow tunneling allows entering a shadow and emerging from another shadow. Both shadows have to be cast by the blue rays of the lantern, so only shadows from objects or living things that are inside the light radius of the lantern qualify. The destination shadow has to be chosen at the time of entering. If this shadow does not qualify anymore when trying to emerge from it, the traveller is lost in the shadow realm (see table result 6). The complete shadow tunneling takes three rounds: one for entering, one for travelling, and one for emerging.

Shadow tunneling actually means travelling through the shadow realm of Ith-Narmant, and comes not without dangers. Every time when shadow tunneling, make an unmodified d20 roll. On a 1, there are complications (see table).

Shadow Tunneling Complications (1d6):

Receive a demonsign of Ith-Narmant. This can take many forms, but most commonly results in a pitch black mark on the skin that does not reflect any light. These signs are recognized by demon hunters and inquisitors.

You lose a valuable item in the shadow realm.

A Shadow emerges along with the traveller (see S&W Complete, page 112).

Lose your own shadow for 1d6 days. During this time, you cannot regain lost hp.

You are chilled to the bone and temporarily lose 1d6 Strength. If this brings your Strength to 0, you die and are transformed into a Shadow (see S&W Complete, page 112). Your lost Strength returns after 9 turns. If you die before that happens, you are also transformed into a Shadow.

If you do not yet have a demonsign, you receive one and emerge normally. Otherwise, if you are already marked with a demonsign of Ith-Narmant, you do not emerge from, but are instead lost in the shadow realm of Ith-Narmant. Your friends might try to come and rescue you, if they are brave or foolish enough.

Originally written for the magic item contest over at Tenkar's Tavern, for use with Swords & Wizardry Complete - but of course you can easily use it with any other fantasy RPG. If you're using it with the DCC RPG, I'd suggest to roll on the corruption tables when a character receives a demonsign; and you'll find a Shadow monster on page 425 of the rulebook.You can find a bit more information about Ith-Narmant in Crawl!#7, along with another of his magic items, the Shadowsword of Ith-Narmant, including DCC RPG stats.

Freitag, 11. April 2014

Dead Cyclops presents a DCC RPG conversion for a monster from +Rafael Chandler's Teratic Tome. If you like this, check out the Kickstarter for Rafael's new bestiary: Lusus Naturae.
The Onlooker belongs to a class of monsters called audiences, so let's talk about those first...

Audiences

Created by the Tenebrous Halflings of the Infinite Crypt, audiences were once among the most dreaded of monsters.

When several of the Tenebrous Halflings neared death, they would perform a necromantic ritual that transferred their souls into a monstrous body that had been stitched together by their chirurgeons. Within this new body, a floating sack of flesh adorned with tentacles, each audience was a collection of diverse personalities.

The audience then continued to stalk the silent corridors of the Infinite Crypt, gathering information, tormenting lesser beings, and assembling troves of forbidden knowledge.

Then Shauva Tiridan, the mad mage, took their eyes.

A wizard of unimaginable power, she hunted down every audience and carved out its eyes to create her legion of ambulators (q.v.).

Now blind and insane, the audiences still glide through dark tunnels, but their mutilator died years ago, so they have no one to vent their rage on save for the occasional adventurer who blunders into their path. Though eyeless, an audience is nonetheless acutely aware of its surroundings, and is not penalized for blindness -- nor is it affected by illusions, or spells such as darkness.

Each audience has the power (and the intellect, and the souls) of several ancient halfling mages, but much of that strength was blunted when the eyes were taken; still, an audience is a formidable foe.

The onlooker appears as a large sphere of greenish-blue tissue, from which dangle 10 tentacles of different lengths. An enormous mouth protrudes from the four-foot-wide central sphere, and each of the tentacles ends in a chattering mouth. The monster sweats a milky substances that reeks of fresh fruit.

Often found near crypts, ossuaries, or graveyards, the onlooker's eleven souls bicker and argue incessantly, debating the necromantic lore that once was their bailiwick. Now, eyeless and stripped of many powers, they float through dust-blanketed necropoleis in search of the interesting-tasting cadavers that sustain them (and occasionally serve as raw material for an experiment of some kind).

If approached, the onlooker will stop chattering long enough to bite with its tentacled mouths (3-10 points of damage) or its central maw (2-12 points); if it feels that the enemy is a dangerous enough to warrant it, the central maw can spit forth magic missiles (6d4+6, 180' range, once per day), and the ten other mouths can utter the following spells (once per day each):

Winged humanoids with grey feathers and scabby pink faces, scavengers look like human-vulture hybrids. They reek of the carrion that they feed on.

Most scavengers cultivate symbiotic relationships with powerful predators, which can include carnivorous dinosaurs, giant spiders, or humanoids such as gnolls or bugbears.

Using its piercing caw, and taunting its targets with the few common-tongue obscenities that it knows, the scavenger tries to lure its prey towards the predator, which then attacks. After the other creature has killed the target, the scavenger picks the scraps of meat off the bones.

Though it carries no treasure, the ruqoloi itself is worth a decent amount, as its exoskeleton is valued by many apothecaries (who create various medicines from the material). A damaged corpse can fetch five hundred gold from a wealthy chemist, and an undamaged body can bring ten times that amount.

A scavenger may also attempt to lure a group of adventurers into a dangerous location, such as a trap-heavy dungeon, by dropping coins which it has looted from various corpses -- scavengers have no use for money, but do love shiny things, so these coins will usually be retrieved afterward.

In combat, scavengers use makeshift daggers wrought from bones (1-3) or any weapons they can pilfer. Their treetop nests are stuffed full of useless items (spoiled iron rations, moldy bread, a four-foot length of rope with a bloody frayed end) and a few bits of treasure.

Elegant and formal, the bothrians are a mild-mannered race of beings that seek only to enjoy the good things in life -- to carefully slice flavorful meat and sip chilled wine while listening to music and watching their victims scream as the skin is carefully peeled away from the muscle.

Slender humanoids with octopoidal features, their smooth, moist skin ranges in hue from violet to bright green, and changes slightly with mood. Most bothrians favor damp climates, and are typically found near pools where they can soak when the mood arises. Their tentacles undulate while they speak, and many of them have pierced, tattooed, or otherwise decorated their appendages to indicate status.

If provoked, a bothrian typically tries to cause as much harm as possible, while amusing itself by using its abilities to manipulate and bewilder its intellectually-inferior foes. Bothrians have spent centuries honing their mental powers, and can use the following spelllike abilities at will: ESP, levitate, phantasm, wizard sense. In addition, it can use these abilities once per day: charm person, forget, scare, word of command.

Three times per day, the bothrian can employ mindblade, a magical attack which functions like a breath weapon with a 60 ft cone (5 ft at base and 20 ft at end); victims must succeed in a DC 14 Ref save or have their intelligence reduced to 1 for 1d6 rounds (no spellcasting possible). All abilities are performed at 7th-level mastery.

They can also attack with their tentacles; a successful hit inflicts 1-4 damage, and the victim must succeed in a DC 15 Fort save or lose 1 point of intelligence. The following round, the victim must make an additional saving throw or lose another point. Thus, a hit means that the target will lose 0-2 points of intelligence per hit. The effect is usually temporary (intelligence is restored in 1d6 rounds); however, in 10% of cases, this intelligence loss is permanent, and must be remedied somehow.

An amorphous blob of tissue with sensory organs that are little more than thick pores on its oily skin, the dreg-stalker is a predator that stalks sewers and alleys.

The monster lurks below the city, surfacing at night to feed upon solitary victims: vagrants, drunkards, prostitutes, and night watchmen. Its four muscular arms end in sharp claws, which it uses to eviscerate its victims. Then the corpse is stuffed into the pulpy wad of beige tissue that is the dreg-stalker's body.

If confronted, the creature will command the vermin that follow it to attack: giant fire beetles, rats, and other small creatures will defend the dreg-stalker to the death.

Because the dreg-stalker also absorbs its victims' memories, it is highly prized by interrogators, who feed accused persons to the beast, then ask it for information (as payment for the food).

Sometimes, of course, they learn that the person in question was telling the truth, and was innocent of the crimes in question.

The acronical is a large insectile predator that strides on six armored legs. Eight feet tall at the shoulder, it has a dark maroon exoskeleton and serrated black hooks at the end of both arms. It reeks of vomit.

Created by anhedonic priests many centuries ago, this nocturnal creature stalks and kills adulterers. It hunts married people who stray from the beds of their spouses, and it hunts those who fornicate with married people.

Acronicals are drawn to the scent of such persons, and can detect it from miles away. Hunting in small packs, the beasts crawl across walls and ceilings, silent and careful, closing in on their victims. They stalk everyone who was peripherally involved in the duplicity -- neighbors who turn a blind eye, innkeepers who knew exactly what was going on, and so forth. Those involved are tracked down, attacked while alone, hamstrung, and devoured by the acronicals while still alive.

Then the creatures will hunt the adulterers themselves. They will be captured, brought together, and given a chance to survive: a fight to the death, with the victor set free.

However, the creatures have no intention of living up to their end of the deal. After one has killed the other, the monster will amputate the victor's arms and legs, then sing songs of love while the fornicator bleeds to death.

Adventurers may encounter the acronical in the wild. It tends to favor caves or dungeons, where it can stage the fatal battle between lovers.

The creature leaves behind a watery orange stool, and when it is agitated, its chitin flakes off in small amounts. Heroes tracking the beast will find this evidence in its wake.

In combat, the acronical attacks with its scythe-like claws, which inflict 4-10 points of damage. Each time the monster hits, the target must make a saving throw against poison or lose a point from a random attribute (roll 1d6 to determine which attribute is affected). This loss can only be remedied when the acronical in question has been slain, at which point the attribute(s) will be restored.